A brother's hands

Having four boys and having five brothers I am now considering myself sort of  like a brother connoisseur. 

I feel like I know brothers. 

I know a brother's hands can inflict some serious damage.

They can hit and punch and tackle.

They have been all sorts of nasty places.

They are not pleasant to smell.

Brother's hands can hold you down even when you squirm for your life.

Brother's hands can steal your precious things. (Like the doll you have convinced yourself is a real live person with real live feelings. I have a brother who shall not be named [Robb] who once kidnapped my doll and left a ransom note. I was beside myself. Thankfully my mom came to the rescue or who knows what would have become of my precious doll?)

But brother's hands don't behave badly all the time.
Sometimes they are really useful.
They can get you to a level on a video game that you couldn't get to.
They can build way better lego creations than you thought possible.
They can reach the suckers mom put out of reach on the top shelf.
They can protect.
They can soothe.
They can love.

A brother and his hands are good to have around.
Just don't eat out of them.
Those things almost always need a severe disinfecting.